


You're My Brother, and I Love You

by Steerpike_Jennkings



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Jaytim - Freeform, M/M, TimJay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steerpike_Jennkings/pseuds/Steerpike_Jennkings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a crush on your adopted brother feels like shit. No really; you get shot, he ends up hating you, and worst of all a relationship with them would never work. Unless you're as stubborn as Jason Todd; Then maybe you'll have a chance.</p><p>((Rated T-ish for swearing, violence, kinda/sorta implied incest, and mature themes.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

One. Long. Day. Jason was done, he just wanted to go home and crash on the couch for the next week. Check that. More like a month.

Today wouldn’t have been half as bad if he listened to Dick in the first place. “Penguin’s not going to be so welcoming,” the boy wonder called after him as Jason turned to leave. “If you need backup, don’t hesitate to ask.”

The guy was a prick, but that didn’t mean letting his pride get in the way of being smart. Jason’s pride did get in the way though, and it definitely cost him valuable time and bullets. Not to mention his own injuries.

It went down well though. Stopped a shipment of highly explosive chemicals from being delivered to Penguin, it just could have gone much smother with some of the other bat-street boys there. Except Damian, Damian could go to hell.

When Jason was in the elevator, a young woman came in with him. She didn’t look like a threat, but kept staring at him from the corner of her eyes. It may have been because of his physical condition. Bruises and blood tend to draw attention, but she looked like she wanted to ask him something. Finally, when he got off on the seventh floor she spoke up.  
“A young man was looking for you,” she blurted out.

Jason stopped, keeping the elevator doors open with his hand. “Who?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t get his name, but he was at the desk this morning asking for someone named Jason. He looked a lot like you so I assumed maybe...”

Jason shook his head. “No sorry, wrong guy.” He let the doors shut before going to his apartment. No doubt a bat-boy would be waiting for him.

When he got to the apartment door, he kicked up the mat. The spare key he kept was gone. That narrowed down which wonder boy would be waiting inside to two. Dick and Tim were the only ones who knew where he lived, and where to find the key to his place.

As annoying as it was to come home and find Dick's cheery self sitting at his kitchen table eating Jason’s food, or Tim playing video games on his couch, it was nice to have the company. Dick’s excuse was that he was checking up on Jason, making sure he wasn’t hurt from a recent fight. Tim just always said he needed to get away from Bruce and Damien so he would crash at Jason’s or Dicks place. Again, Jason didn’t mind it that much.  
He went inside and threw his duffle bag on the floor before switching on the lights. It could have been Damian waiting for him, or even the big-bad-bat himself, but Jason doubted that. Neither knew his address (well Bruce did, but Jason didn’t know that) and if they did they wouldn’t have left a schoolbag propped against the wall; So Tim then.

“Drake,” Jason called out to the apartment. He could hear music on but didn’t see anyone. He went into the living room and found the TV playing some crappy old movie. Bird-boy was asleep on the couch, completely oblivious to Jason. Tim had apparently eaten, leaving a bag of fast food crumpled on the table with half a box of fries spilled across. There was a blanket wadded on the floor that had fallen off the kid in his sleep. Jason picked it up and tossed it back over the teenager.

“Pig,” Jason murmured as he grabbed a handful of the fries for himself before heading off to his room.

* * *

 

Jason had woken up the next morning and wandered into the kitchen. Tim was standing behind the counter eating cereal out of the box. The kid looked like a wreck between having slept in his clothes and his hair sticking in every-which way. Jason couldn’t tell whether to dub it as humorous or cute. Humorous seemed more appropriate for his adopted brother.

“Morning,” Tim said not looking up from the box in his hand.

Jason muttered something in return before going for the fridge. “You realize I have bowls, and milk.” He pointed out.

Tim just shrugged behind him. Obviously the teen didn’t consider either a necessity. “Nice boxers,” Tim commented noticing the blue bird-like symbols that decorated the pattern.

Jason scoffed trying to hide the blood that had rushed to his cheeks. “Dick doesn’t approve.” He shut the fridge, carton of milk in hand, and snatched the box of cereal from Tim. Shoving a handful into his own mouth he watched as Tim went to the cupboard and got out two bowls and spoons.

Dick’s seen your boxers?” Tim asked with a smirk.

"Shut up bird boy.” Jason snapped kicking at him playfully.

* * *

 

“So what’s the deal?” Jason asked picking up their bowls and setting them in the sink after they finished eting. “Why’d you ditch the mansion yesterday?”

Tim shrugged but kept his gaze towards the floor. “Bruce is out of town for the next few weeks. Damian’s being annoying as usual. I just needed a beak.” He looked back up to Jason, hoping for approval of his actions.

“How long’s Bruce been gone so far?” Jason questioned.

Eh,” Tim gave a half smile. “About a day.”

Jason rolled his eyes but understood why Tim wanted to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. With the bat-dad gone, Damien would think he ran the place and make it a living hell for Tim. Jason felt even worse realizing Alfred would be stuck watching the demon child.

“I was wondering,” Tim scratched the back of his head nervously. “If I can’t stand it there, maybe I could crash here once in awhile.”

Jason felt a wave of guilt hit him. He liked Tim; he liked him more than he cared to admit. But having him staying at his apartment for who knows how long? That was a risk he didn’t feel comfortable with. If something happened to him, Bruce and Dick would kill him. And no, that wasn’t a joke. They would both be after him. Also, Tim was a great kid and all, but he was Red Robin, someone who fought for justice with Bruce’s self-righteous morals. Jason was Red Hood, a vigilante who preferred ending a fight with a bullet to ensure it was done.

"Look, Tim,” Jason began but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Both boys look confused at each other before a voice called out “Jason, Tim, it’s Dick.”

Tim immediately tensed up and shook his head violently. “I was never here.” He whispered threateningly to Jason. The threat made his stomach do back flips. Not from fear, but from the way Tim had said it almost like a dare. Before he asked why Tim didn’t want Dick knowing he was here, the teenager had run into another room.

When Jason opened the door Dick Grayson stood on the other side, usual smile replaced with an unfitting glare. “Where’s Tim?” he demanded.

Jason shrugged. “How should I know?”

Dick looked unimpressed and pointed out “His backpack is right there Jason,”

“I tried,” Jason called out to the apartment as Dick pushed past him.

“Tim,” Dick yelled as he ran looking in each room. Jason sat back and watched impatiently. Dick disappeared into Jason’s bedroom and he could hear yelling from both Tim and Dick and what sounded like a window slamming shut.

They came out of the room, both glaring at Jason. Oh great so now it’s his fault.

“He was trying to use the fire escape,” Dick explained before turning his attention to Tim. “Why didn’t you tell Alfred you were here?” it wasn’t fury, not like Bruce would have been. It was asked like a question to an adult and Jason had to give Dick credit for that.

“Alfred would have told Bruce, and we all know how pleased Bruce would be finding out I was sleeping at a felons place.” Tim replied calmly, and then looked over to Jason. “No offence.”  
“None taken.”

Dick looked a little defeated at that but added, “At least tell me next time, alright? Alfred thought maybe you got hurt, or worse, after last night’s incident. He had me looking for you for hours. ”

“Wait,” Tim said. “What ‘incident’?” he asked puzzled.

“Penguin had a shipment of explosive chemicals coming into Gotham last night; someone set them off early. Smugglers who survived the explosion were all shot.” Dick explained, focusing an accusing glance towards Jason.

“Wonder who that could have been,” Jason muttered with a smirk. 

Tim called Alfred after that, apologizing and swearing to make sure Alfred or Dick knew where he was on future occasions. When Alfred had asked where Tim had been, Tim simply said ‘friends house’. Jason wasn’t sure whether the kid was sincere, but he kind of hoped Tim was.  
When the call ended Dick had announced he was going home to sleep after spending the entire night hunting down Red Robin, plus whoever had cause the explosion. Jason really didn’t care. He was just glad Tim wasn’t leaving yet.

The rest of the day was spent playing video games together. Tim was considerably better then Jason, and wasn’t modest about it. It eventually escalated to Jason nearly beating Tim with the controller.

“Suck it Jay!” Tim shouted as Jason’s character collapsed dead.

Jason sent a glare. “This game’s retarded,” was his poor excuse for loosing.

“We’re not changing games again.” Tim said firmly. Every time Jay lost a game he had insisted they play a different one. That would be the fifth time.

"You’re such a cheater.” Jason muttered before tossing the controller onto the counter.

Tim rolled his eyes before checking his watch. “You realize it’s already five o’clock?” he asked.

Jason stood up and stretched his back and arms. As much fun as goofing off playing video games was, his loosing streak was getting old. Plus his hunger was starting to make itself bluntly obvious with growls. “I’m gonna’ go get food. You coming?” he asked.

Tim nodded and grabbed his jacket off the floor. “Where too?”

“Take out probably,”

Jason regretted that decision. The two of them sat in Jason’s car in and empty parking lot, the car filled with fast food bags. Most of them were Tim’s.  
How a Robin, who’s physical shape was supposed to be in top notch at all times, could eat so much crap and not gain weight was a mystery to Jason. The teen had eaten two burgers, a box of fries, and a milkshake. No seriously, who the hell orders two burgers? Who the hell can eat all that crap and not be overweight, let alone fight criminals?

Tim. Apparently.

Jason sat studying the kid for a while. Mostly wondering where the hell all that fat went but the longer they sat eating and chatting, the more Jason wondered about Tim’s shape. The kid was obviously fit, even for a child crime fighter. Jason was curious if maybe Tim went through the same training with Bruce as he had. Jason and Tim had fought before, mostly during Jason’s whole ‘vengeance’ deal, but at the time Jason didn’t take much note on whether Tim used the same methods of fighting as Dick or Jason. He’d have to remember to pay attention next time they fought. Jason hoped that wouldn’t ever happen, again.

“So,” Tim said whipping his hands on a napkin. “Can I stay with you, when Damian gets on my nerves?”

"When is Damian never on your nerves?” Jason pointed out.

Tim shrugged and waited quietly for an answer. Jason sighed and rubbed his eyes trying to think about this sensibly. Having Tim over today wasn’t unpleasant, but Tim being at his apartment for another two weeks could cause tensions. Jason preferred privacy and Tim might not appreciate being ignored by Jason on a regular basses. But then again, the kid had lived with Bruce for the past few years, and everyone knew how loving Bruce could be.

"Alright,” Jason finally answered, still unsure if he was making a good decision. “On the condition that you first tell Alfred that it’s me you’re staying with, if he say’s it’s fine then you can stay every once in a while.”

Tim tried to hide that he was beaming but nodded in understanding. “Thanks,” he finally added.

Jason sighed and handed Tim what was left of his fries. “I’m not buying you dinner every night either. I don’t want Bats’ blaming me when you get fat.” Tim rolled his eyes but accepted the fries.


	2. Day Two

It had been three days since Jason had dropped Tim back off at the mansion. Each night he arrived home to the apartment half expecting Tim to be sleeping on his couch again, and each night Jason felt a little more disappointed when found his couch was unoccupied.  
That morning he had given up on the idea of Tim staying over and was content eating cereal alone when he heard his phone buzzing signaling there was a text. Jason glanced at the screen expecting it to be Roy and was surprised to find a message from the first Boy Wonder.

_**Dick Grayson:** Is Tim there?_

Jason read the message over again wondering why Dick would think Tim was with him. Did he not show up at the mansion again? Jason sent a text in reply:

_**Jason Todd:** No, why?_

Dick’s second text came surprisingly quickly.

_**Dick Grayson:** him and Damian got in a fight this morning. Tim apparently took off and hasn’t been back yet. I thought he might have gone to your place._

Jason rolled his phone around in his hand wondering where Tim would have gone if not his predecessor’s apartments’. Multiple places Jason knew Tim hung out at ran threw his mind. The arcades’ wouldn’t be open this early, and Dick probably already asked Tim’s buddies in Teen Justice or whatever they called themselves. That left only one other place Jason knew Tim would go.

_**Jason Todd:** Did you check the library?_

_**Dick Grayson:** No, I’m going now. Thanks_

Jason didn’t like the idea of Tim having to deal with Dick alone. Someone needed to be on the kid’s side. Jason knew Dick wasn’t like Bruce, but he still didn’t trust him to be completely fair with Tim. Also, Jason wanted to know why Tim hadn’t come to his place.

_**Jason Todd:** hold up, I’m coming too._

_**Dick Grayson:**_ _k, I’ll pick you up in 10 mins?_

_**Jason Todd:** Yeah, sounds good._

 

Dick was waiting outside the apartment building in his car when Jason came down. The Boy Wonder’s usual annoying cheerfulness was replaced with concern and apprehension. As they drove Dick tried to initiate small talk, but Jason wasn’t really listening to what was being said. Eventually Dick gave up trying to converse with Jason and turned up the radio. The drive quickly became awkward and Jason for once in his life, couldn’t wait to get to the library.  
He was out of the car before Dick had even put it in park. Behind he could hear Grayson shouting orders at him. “You check the second floor, I’ll check the first.”

Jason gave a wave of understanding before storming into the silent building. He had only been to the Gotham library a once when he was younger; it had been burnt down since then and rebuilt by Wayne Enterprise’s. Clearly they spared no expense in the project.  
The building was enormous; everyplace was filled with shelves and books that maze into different pathways. Jason felt dizzy just trying to take in all the space. If Tim were hiding here, it would take hours to find him.

Jason felt a nudge against his side and he looked to Dick who was scanning the area. “Like I said, if we split up we’ll find him faster.” Grayson whispered before disappearing into an isle.

“Yeah, great.” Jason muttered, already annoyed with having to track down Drake. The kid was seventeen; he didn’t need his bat-brothers knowing about everywhere he went. God Dick could be so overbearing.

 

* * *

 

  
What sort of books would Tim even read? Jason wondered as he meandered through the second floor. Tim liked photography; Jason was certain because Tim always had a camera with him and was constantly editing photos on his laptop. Jay had to admit the kid was pretty good at it too, from what he had seen.  
After spending another twenty minutes trying to find a librarian he was able to find the photography section towards the very back of the library. Sitting against one of the shelves, stack of books by his side, was Tim. Jason moved behind the shelf out of sight, but still able to see the teenager. Tim was completely absorbed in his reading, unknowing to Jason’s presence. Jason studied Tim as he read; the way he had his dark hair hanging over the pages, how he subconsciously picked at his nails, the way his lips muttered the words as he read. Okay, this was getting a bit weird Jason decided.  
He wasn’t sure how long he stood watching, but after what felt like an eternity of studying Tim, he came to the decision it would be best to leave the kid in peace. Jason crept away, Tim still unaware of his brother’s presence. As he made his way down stairs he sent Dick a text.

_**Jason Todd:** He’s fine. Let’s just leave him be. I’ll be by the car._

Jason sat waiting on the hood of Grayson’s car. Why had he been so interested Tim reading? It wasn’t like it was some fascinating once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Tim was always reading and Jason never gave a shit about it before. While in the library though, where Tim was so fixated, Jason felt like he couldn’t look away. Like he could just sit and watch peacefully for hours at all of Tim’s movements. Now that he sat thinking about all this, he wondered if maybe he had hit his head while out last night.

“Hey,” Grayson’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Please don’t sit on the car, okay?” he warned politly.

Jason scoffed and made sure that when he slid off to confront Dick, his jeans rubbed against the paint in a threatening way. Dick sent Jason a glare before making sure the paint hadn’t been scratched.

“You’re such an ass,” Dick muttered after close inspection of the car’s hood.

Jason shrugged, smile pulled across his face “At least I’m not a dick.”

The glare he received at that comment would be enough to cause most to apologize instantaneously. Jason however grinned wider and patted Dick mockingly on the shoulder before crawling into the passenger seat.

Dick checked the hood one last time before circling around the car to the drivers seat. “Where’d you find Tim?” he asked buckling his seat belt.

Jason pulled a cigarette from his leather coat and talked around the paper roll while searching for his lighter. “Photography section. He had a stack of books and a backpack full of stuff so I assume he plans on spending the whole day there.”

Dick snatched the cigarette out of Jason’s mouth before he could light it and threw it out the window as they drove. Jason sent a pout towards the older Boy Wonder and stuffed his lighter back into his coat. It wasn’t worth getting beat up by Dick.  
“I’m shocked you guys don’t have trackers on him. Between you, Alfred, and Bruce you think one of you creepers would have a way to find him without involving me.” Jason commented bitterly.

Dick shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah well Bruce did have trackers on both Damian and Tim, but Tim got smart and hacked into their system. That was the end of that.”

Jason nodded before adding “At least Bruce wasn’t that smart with us.”

Dick laughed uneasily “Yeah, he had trackers on you too. Still does.”

“What!” Jason yelled, much to Dick’s surprise. “What the hell do you mean he has trackers on me?”

Dick was laughing now. “You know how Bruce gets about these things; don’t worry about it, I had Tim disable yours when he did mine.”

Jason was furious now. How long had Bruce been tracking him for? Why the hell would Bruce be tracking him in the first place? He wasn’t a ‘Wayne’ anymore, Bruce had made sure as hell Jason understood that, so why had he been dragged into Bat’s creepy stalker project?

When they pulled to a stop outside Jason’s apartment, Dick turned back towards him. “I may not approve of Bruce’s methods, but I understand his reasoning for the trackers. After what happened with…” he paused unsure if Jason was fine with the touchy subject.

Grayson sighed and continued. “After what happened to you all those years ago, Bat’s has been extra cautious. To the point of obsession when it comes to making sure that doesn’t happen to any of us again. I’m not okay with the trackers, but I don’t like Tim, Damian, and even you, running off for day’s without telling anyone.”

Jason listened to what was being said. He got it; he didn’t want that to happen to any of the other Robin’s either. But his feelings were mixed towards the idea of Dick and Bruce constantly having to know where everyone was all the damn time.

Jason wondered if Tim had even told Dick that he wanted to stay at the apartment with him. Jason finally decided that if Tim wasn’t going to tell Dick about his whereabouts, it would have to be Jason’s responsibility. Oh fun. Just how he wanted to spend his next two weeks.

“Look,” Jason began. “I’ll keep an eye on the kid. He keeps saying he wants to hang at my place while Bruce is gone so if he does anything stupid, you’ll be the first to know.” It wasn’t a complete lie. If Tim did get into trouble, Jason would be telling Dick first because he had a chance of living in a fight against him. If he went straight to Bruce, well Jason didn’t even want to think how that would end.

Dick nodded and thanked Jason profusely. The second robin just gave a ‘yeah whatever’ before exiting the car. Jason was glad Dick gave his approval of Tim staying over, but it made Jason feel like this was becoming more of a sleep over than just a favor for a friend.

 

* * *

 

Jason had gone out that night as Red Hood. There was nothing fascinating to tell. He dealt with some drug dealers and pimps, your typical assholes and scum. It wasn’t until he arrived back to his apartment at almost three in the morning that something notable happened.

Curled on his couch asleep, for the second time this week, was Tim Drake. This was different from last time however seeing as first; Tim was curled in the fetal position, head buried into the pillow. Two; he was still in his Red Robin uniform. It wasn’t the shiny leotard Jason always saw Drake running around in. No, it was torn in places revealing small cuts and it was covered with a mix of soot and blood. Jason hoped it wasn’t Tim’s.

Jason set his helmet on the coffee table before leaning forward to inspect Tim further. Tim’s breath was soft, but he didn’t sound like he was having trouble breathing. There was no blood soaking his couch or bones sticking out in the wrong place. What ever had happened it wasn’t anything serious, but it still made Jason worry.

Tim shifted in his sleep and Jason tensed, afraid he would wake. Tim’s fingers uncurled from the tight fists he had been sleeping with before. For the first time Jason noticed the black fabric Tim was holding. Careful not to wake the kid he pulled the fabric from Tim’s grasp and set it on the table beside his helmet before going to bed himself; Leaving Red Robin’s cowl and Red Hoods helmet sitting side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay chapter two! Okay I'll start chapter three now and I hope you all enjoy it:)


	3. Day Three

Jason didn’t sleep well the previous night. Having seen Tim curled in a heap of blood and bruises on his couch made him anxious; Jace found himself leaving bed numerous times to insure Tim was breathing. Every time he went to check, Jason found it harder to return to bed. He told himself it was Dick’s paranoia influencing him, and would reluctantly return to his room.

Eventually, at some ungodly hour, Jason fell asleep only to be jolted awake again by his alarm. Sluggishly he made his way into the kitchen. Jason stumbled and nearly fell at the sight of the teenager sitting on his couch.

Tim sat bent forward, his arms cradling his head against his knees. Tim’s uniform had been removed, except his pants, exposing his back and shoulders.

If it hadn’t been for the injuries that littered Tim, Jason would have commented about how attractive his physique was. Hell, Jason thought the wounds only added the hotness of his adopted brother. Tim may not agree however. Jason would gain some-self control and keep his mouth shut for just this once.

“Wow, you keep your clothes off I might just let you live here forever.” _Fuck._

Tim lifted his head slightly so his blue eyes peeked out below his messy dark hair. “What?”

Jason tried desperately to ignore the urge to punch himself. “Did you eat yet?” Jason asked changing the subject.

Tim gave Jason a weary look before burying his face back into his arms. “Nah, not hungry.”

Jason felt his heart sink the more he watched his younger brother. Muscles on his back twitched and Tim’s breath was slow and shaky. Tim was obviously masking how much pain he was in. For what reasons, Jason couldn’t fathom.

“Do you want to know my secret remedy a morning after bad patrol?” remarked Jason; opening his freezer he removed a frozen cylinder, then opened another drawer pulling out a spoon. “Good ol’ Ben and Jerry’s.”

Tim lifted his head in curiosity as Jason offered the ice cream to him.

“Eat it.” Jason demanded as Tim excepted the treat.

Tim raised an eyebrow upon lifting the lid. “Peanut butter? I thought you’d be more of a rocky-road kind of guy.” Tim winced as he straightened his spine and Jason could clearly hear pops of stiff joints.

“You okay?” Jason asked concerned.

Tim nodded and started digging into the food. “I’ll be fine. Just don’t tell Dick,” he joked shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

Jason felt concerned hearing that. Tim used to idolize Dick. Even when Jason wasn’t in the whole ‘family’ thing, he could tell his replacement adored the first Robin. Why was Tim keeping so many secrets from him? It was becoming obvious to even Dick that Tim no longer trusted him, and from what Jason saw yesterday it had crushed the guys sensitive emotions.

“Yeah sure,” Jason said, avoiding a soap opera heart to heart. He circled around the couch to get a better view of Tim’s injuries. The cuts had all been cleaned and bandaged. No fresh blood was visible but large bruises covered his shoulders littering down to Tim’s left side in a sick collage of colors. Even yellow and black skin crudely outlined his ribs shapes.

“Anything broken?” Jason asked, realizing just how bad the injuries could have been.

Tim shook his head and said, around a mouth full of ice cream “Already checked. I think my ribs might be fractured, but that’s nothing new. Slight concussion at the worst.”

Jason gently reached out and brushed his fingers against Tim’s ribs. Tim tensed but when he didn’t pull away Jason knew it as permission to examine the teen himself. Holding Tim’s shoulder with one hand, Jason’s thumb pressed firmly against a purple circle of skin and Tim yelped pulling away.

“You’re going to make it worse!” Tim scolded rubbing at the spot with one hand.

Jason nearly burst out laughing. “I didn’t realize you were so delicate!”

Without thinking Tim blurted out “Well getting hit with a crowbar isn’t-“ He stopped midsentence, eyes widening in shock at his words. Jason froze, one hand still placed firmly on Tim’s shoulder, the other hovering over a patch of discolored skin.

“They hit you with a crowbar?” Jason asked quietly.

Tim squirmed under Jason’s uncomfortable grip. “No.”

Jason knew immediately it was a lie. Tim had lied to his face and hadn’t even blinked. Jason subconsciously tightened his grip making Tim struggle even more to pull away. “Who?” he asked.

“I said-“ Tim hissed as Jason dug his nails into the already formed bruises. “Fine, fine!” Tim said succeeding in pushing Jason’s hand off of him. “I was on a case last night and the boss sent some guys after me. I beat the shit out of them but they got lucky a couple times. That’s it.”

Satisfied Jason lowered his gaze. “Didn’t mean to hurt your shoulder. Sorry.” He mumbled.

Hesitantly Tim nodded and returned to his ice cream. Jason felt the atmosphere in the room change dramatically. Both ate in silence and when Tim had finished he disappeared to use the shower. He returned with wet hair plastered to his forehead and his Red Robin uniform replaced with jeans and a t-shirt. Neither of which belonged to him.

“Dude,” Jason said. “Don’t wear that! It’s a collectors!”

Tim looked down to the shirt that sported holes, stains and a Bon Jovi symbol in the center. He looked skeptically to Jason who raised his eyebrows to emphasize he wasn’t joking. Tim sighed and immediately removed the shirt, throwing it across the room to Jason.

“Bon Jovi sucks by the way!” Tim shouted as he disappeared back into Jason’s bedroom, searching for a new shirt.

Jason gasped sarcastically and tossed the shirt beside him on the couch. “Why didn’t you bother brining your own clothes?” Jason asked when Tim returned, this time with a simple black shirt, obviously to large for him.

Tim shrugged and answered “Forgot.”

Jason couldn’t help the eye roll that followed. He was relieved the conversation had become light hearted again.

“What’s the plan for today,” Jason asked. He, Roy and Kory were planning on doing some research. Mostly involving guns and arrows and flames. Tim being injured may not be a great mix to that situation. Even if Tim were Superman, Jason still probably wouldn’t let him anywhere near his ‘team’.

Tim thought for a moment before deciding, “I might go back to the manor; get clothes that don’t look and smell like shit”

Jason glared and added, “Yeah, well have Alfie check your injuries too. Make sure your ribs aren’t broken.”

“What about you? What are you doing today?” Tim asked sitting beside Jason.

“Meeting friends,” he answered, relieved Tim didn’t press further.

Tim left first; calling a cab then telling Jason he’d be home at around two. Jason wasn’t sure if that was afternoon or morning, but he’d plan to be home early to ensure Roy and Kory wouldn’t be running into his ‘little brother.’

The three had agreed to meet at the harbor at eleven. Usually as a team they dealt with strictly meta-human freaks. Sometimes Jason or Roy would deal with side cases involving drug lords, pimps, and assholes of the sort. Kory never got involved with ‘simplistic human delinquency’ but business was slow lately so Kory would show for something to do. At least that’s what Jason had thought.

He arrived at the docks to find Roy sitting alone on top of a massive boxcar. “You’re late.” He called down to the crimson hooded figure.

“Not the latest,” Jason noted looking around for alien girl. “Where’s Starfire?”

Arsenal jumped from his perch to Red Hood. “Said she wasn’t coming.”

 “What do you mean she isn’t coming?” Jason asked annoyed. He had planned this job specifically to accommodate two humans and one alien. Without Starfire he’d have to alter the original plans. Something Jason always hated.

“Dude she just said she just couldn’t make it today, chill.”

Biting back his urge to punch Roy for his idiocy he continued, “This is a three man job! We can’t go marching in there with only two people,”

Roy gave an obnoxious eye roll before slapping Jason on the shoulder. “It’s just some human traffickers, how hard could it be?”

Jason had been convinced by Roy, which he should have known was a mistake from the start. They had watched and waited from the roof of the warehouse where the meeting was planned. Their waiting lasted close to an hour before the seller finally arrived. When he finally arrived with his ‘shipment’ the buyer had become edgy to say the least. At first Jason had hoped someone would screw up and they would take each other out, leaving just a few stragglers for him and Roy to clean up.

As luck would have it, everything went flawless for the buyer and seller.

There were forty-four men altogether. Each one was armed with a weapon of some sort, but only twelve had guns. The others carried bats or crowbars. That would be twenty-one each; a number Jason knew he could handle, yet still reluctant to fighting. This was exactly why they needed Starfire. Hell, she could take them all out alone.

The seller grabbed the brief case filled with money and turned to leave the warehouse signaling the meeting had been complete. That was their cue. Jason dropped from a hole in the rotting roof to the center of the room.

Immediately gunfire sprung out from both directions but ceased quickly as arrows rained down. Retrieving his pistols from his belt Jason stood up and began firing with each hand whilst walking backwards. Multiple men closest to Jason were killed early on. Others had ducked behind what little shelter there was in the warehouse.

Unknowingly the men had run into Jason’s plan.

Their decision to take cover behind the large crates had made easy targets for the archer. Roy continued firing from above, hitting anyone who was stupid enough to hide below this position on the roof. Jason shot at anyone who went for the doors or caught on to where the arrows were coming from.

Gunfire eventually ceased and Jason held his position waiting for anyone to move. There was blood spattered along the plastered walls and pooling into puddles on the floor. From his ground position he couldn’t count how many were dead. He looked expectantly to Roy who held up a single finger representing one survivor.

Making his way to the opposite end of the warehouse he removed his helmet, wearing only the red domino mask below it. Jason stopped by the main door, where beside it a curled figure cowered. “Please,” he begged upon seeing Jason approaching.

Jason crouched in front of the man and recognized him as the buyer, a wealthy CEO who had planned on reselling the children outside to other Gotham high lives. His business suit now stained with blood from stray bullets. He continued begging and Jason found it pointless to listen to the man as he babbled desperately. Jason lifted his gun to the man’s temple but something the man murmured made him stop.

“I thought you got the hint last night.”

Jason froze. It may have been a mistake, or maybe just nonsense, but grabbing the man by the front of his shirt he forced him upright. “What happened last night?”

The man’s eyes were beginning to glaze over and he studied Jason for a moment. “Last night, y-you followed us. Eight of my men attacked you a-as a warning.” The man licked his lips, eyes darting about the room for any sign of escape.

“These men,” Jason held tighter to him, “Did they use a crowbar?”

The man nodded quickly but soon realized his mistake when Jason threw him to the floor. Frantically he tried to crawl away as Jason approached him threateningly.

Tackling the man Jason flipped him over to face him as he began throwing blow after blow with his fists. Above he could hear Roy’s distressed yells but he paid little attention to what they were. All he knew was this scum was the reason Tim had been hurt, and that deserved punishment.

As the man fought against the Red Hood he noticed one of his gunman lying dead a few feet in front of him, a pistol lying inches from his cold fingers. Reaching sideways he snatched the gun unknown to the Red Hood.

There was a loud bang and Jason felt a sting of pain, which quickly grew and spread across his leg to his chest. Distracted by the sudden agony Jason couldn’t focus on the man as he aimed the gun to his head for a second shot. There was a hiss and a blur that brushed Jason’s ear and the man’s hand fell to the ground, the gun clattering to the ground. A red arrow stuck from the mans eye.

Jason slid off the dead trafficker. Sharp pain radiated from his thigh through his entire body. Looking down to his leg he could see the dark red stain that was spreading across the denim. “Shit,” he muttered pressing down hard against the wound.

If having been shot wasn’t bad enough, Jason began to notice the growing pain in his right hand. It was shaking violently. Realizing it was probably broken from his wild hits to the man’s skull, he pulled the arm to his chest and continued pressing the wound with his left hand. With the loss of pressure from a second hand, blood began flowing heavily creating a slippery mess below his fingers.

“Jason!” Roy yelled leaping from the roof into the room. When the red head had arrived to Jason’s side he noticed the blood pooling below Jasons fingers and immediately helped press against the wound. “It didn’t go through,” Roy noted to the bullet. At least Jason’s chances of bleeding out had dramatically decreased.

“Yeah that’s really comforting.” Jason said sarcastically. That would mean removing the bullet himself. “Help me get this off,” Jason said gesturing to his coat. Roy complied and helped Jason remove his jacket and tie it tightly around the wound.

“Hospital?” Roy asked helping Jason stand, but Jason shook his head.

“I’ve dealt with worse. Just help me get back to my place.” He argued. Roy hesitated and Jason added, “If you don’t hurry up I’m going to bleed out.”

Knowing Jason would argue until he got his way or died, Roy agreed. Carefully Roy helped raise Jason to his feet. With the help of the archer supporting some of his weight Jason was able to limp out of the warehouse and to Roy’s car.

Jason had ridden his motorbike to the harbor, but having broken his hand with bashing in the scums head and being shot, riding it back was implausible. Not impossible, but Roy had insisted he drive Jason to his apartment.

“That shipment’s still down the street,” Roy pointed out.

“We’ll give an anonymous call to the PD in a few minutes.” Jason instructed.

When they arrived to Jason’s apartment Roy insisted on coming upstairs to ensure Jason didn’t do some half-ass job and bleed out. Jason didn’t mind having Roy over but with Tim returning in less than an hour Jason was beginning to panic on how he would explain _this_ to the teen. Saying he got shot on a case was fine, but Tim was nosey and would press for _why_ Jason had been shot and why his hand was broken. Not to mention the huge coincidence of Jason having beaten to death the guy who had hurt Tim.

Roy returned from ransacking Jason’s kitchen and sat across from him on the floor of Jason’s bathroom. His jeans had been removed along with his jacket and were currently sitting in the kitchen sink. Roy had to help with removing the bullet, but Jason insisted he could take care of stitching alone. It still hurt like a bitch but he was lucky the bullet didn’t shatter, or break the bone, or hit a major artery. Maybe karma wasn’t such a bitch after all.

“I need you gone by two remember.” Jason reminded.

Roy waved his hand uncaring and held a beer out for his friend “Yeah, yeah.”

“Thanks,” Jason studied Roy for a moment before setting his drink down to return to the task of sewing. The redhead had waited patiently all afternoon for an explanation of why Jason had suddenly attacked the seller, which could have gotten him killed, and Jason knew he had to explain. Sighing he looked up to meet Roy’s eyes.

“You remember Tim, right?”

Roy nodded, remembering Red Robin from their previous encounter. That had been close to a year ago yet Roy remembered distinctly how difficult it was for Jason to work with his ‘replacement’. Months had passed and Jason would mention the teen rarely but fondness grew with the remarks. Jason didn’t talk much about his family, but Tim seemed to be one of the few he tolerated.

Jason continued, “Tim showed up at my place covered in bruises last night. That guys men had beaten him with crowbars.”

“Oh,” now Roy got it. Jason had never been open about his death but one night, after lots of drinking, Kory and Roy had pried out a vague idea of the situation. The crowbar had been the weapon of choice for his murderer, and having the only member of his ‘family’ being beaten with one probably didn’t sit well with Jay.

“Yeah ‘oh’ is right.” Jason hissed as he pricked the skin sharply with the needle.

Minutes passed as Jason continued swearing under his breath. Roy had grown bored and began searching through Jason’s bathroom cupboards. Jason had a mix of toiletries and weapons stuffed below the sink. Everything from spare tooth brushes to a freaking grenade. Soap stacked neatly beside bullets; Roy had opened the bullets box out of curiosity and began laughing hysterically at what had been stored with the metal projectiles. Jason looked up and upon seeing the box immediately snatched it away from the archer.

“You keep your condoms with your bullets?” Roy said between his laughter.

Jason glared and set the box out of Roy’s reach before returning to the stitching. “Shut up. I just put them in there because…why the hell am I even explaining this to you?”

“I never would have guessed you wore-“

“I said shut up!” Jason grabbed a bloody bandage and tossed it towards Roy’s face. The red head dodged it though and continued laughing. Jason could feel his cheeks burning and grumbled as finished the last of his stitching.

“Is that why you need me gone? You got someone coming over?” Roy raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Something like that,” Jason answered, ignoring the subtext.

“Who?”

“Why do you care?” Jason glared but Roy’s smirk changed into a grin. “Well it’s not like you guys can do anything. You being shot and all.”

Jason scoffed and knotted the end of the thread; his wound now completely stitched closed “Believe me, we weren’t going to.”

“They hot?” Roy peered over his beer curiously as he took a sip.

Jason whipped his blood-covered hand on a rag as he thought about that question. Tim wasn’t supposed to be back for at least another hour, he could just say outright to Roy that it was his baby brother coming by for some weird three-week sleepover. Or, and this option was much more fun because Jason was a sick fucker, he could mess with Roy’s head.

“Was that a yes?” The red head asked, noticing Jason’s smile for the first time all day.

“Yeah, okay so maybe they’re a little hot.” Jason admitted. It wasn’t a lie; Jason honestly realized how hot Tim was. Hell, in Jason’s opinion Tim gave Dick a run for pretty-boy looks.

Roy was suddenly very intrigued. He leaned forward, studying Jason like he was some mystery to be solved. “What do they look like?”

Jason sighed and met Roy’s gaze again. The red head realized Jason’s hesitation, unknowing it was because Jason was contemplating describing Tim as what Roy would assume to be his lover. _Ah, fuck it,_ Jason decided. He had his leg shot, hand broken and a considerable amount of blood lost. Karma could give him this one break.

“Dark hair, blue eyes, your typical dreamy idiot.”

“Guy or gal?” Roy’s cheerful tone didn’t change, and Jason knew for a fact Roy would be judgment free towards Jason’s sexuality, but that didn’t make admitting it any less terrifying.

Reluctantly Jason mentally encouraged himself to stick with what he started. “Guy.” He said flatly taking a drink from his beer. Roy’s attitude and smile didn’t change making Jason wonder if Roy already knew.

“How long have you been seeing them?”

That question made Jason the most uncomfortable. Damn it. Screw worrying about what Roy thought about his sexuality, but this question made Jason squirm in his seat because they _weren’t_ seeing each other. All Jason had was a schoolgirl crush on Tim, and Roy couldn’t know that.

“A couple weeks,” Jason brushed the guilt of the lie off and awaited the next question.

“What’s his name?”

“Jason!” the front door of his apartment swung open as Tim announced his return loudly.

Roy looked horrified to Jason as Tim could be heard shutting the door in the other room. “Him?” he whispered so the teen wouldn’t hear.

Jason could feel his cheeks heating and realized how far he had fucked up on his ‘joke’.

“Yeah,” he choked out before taking another drink of beer. Jason felt multiple more would be needed to ease his mortification.

“You’re dating your brother?” Roy whispered urgently.

“He’s technically not my brother.”

Roy scoffed. “Legally he is! Not to mention he’s seventeen! You’re what-“ Roy gestured to Jason.

With his uninjured hand Jason rubbed his temples. “I’m twenty-four, asshole. Besides,” Jason glanced out the open bathroom door to ensure Tim was still in the other room. “’Legally’ I’m dead, so I don’t think that makes us ‘adopted’ brothers even.”

Struggling to find another argument Roy took a different approach. “Who else knows about this? Dick?”

“No, look you’re the first one to know, okay.” Jason hesitated then added “And we haven’t done anything ‘illegal’ other than dressing in masks and catching criminals.”

Everything Jason was trying to convince Roy with, it was the same thing had tried telling himself over and over again. For the past few days Jason had been assuring himself that him liking Tim romantically wasn’t wrong. Roy would be what determined if Jason believed it enough to convince others, maybe even Tim.

“Jason,” Roy began sounding concerned. Jason interrupted him.

“Roy, it’s fine. If it makes you feel better it’s not even serious.” _Damn right it’s not serious. Tim doesn’t even know,_ Jason thought bitterly.

Reluctantly Roy nodded. “Alright,” he agreed. “I’m just worried what’ll happen to you if the big guy, or worse, Dick finds out.”

Jason realized that Roy was right. If Dick thought Jason was using Tim in anyway he’d be a dead man. An angry Bruce was bad enough, but Dick was down right terrifying when he got pissed. Jason was protective over Tim, but Dick was down right maternally deadly if any of his siblings got injured. That’s all he needed now, a mix of guilt from lying to Roy, embarrassment whenever he was close to Tim, and now dread of how their ‘family’ would react. Thank God they weren’t actually dating…yet.

“Jason!” Tim yelled terrified. Panicking Jason tried jumping up but pain ripped through his leg and he could feel the stitches tearing open again. Falling back to the floor Jason watched as Roy disappeared out of the bathroom. There was a loud bang and more yelling. Tim could be heard demanding where Jason was.

“He’s in the bathroom!” he heard Roy explain. “He’s fine, look I swear!”

Jason wondered if maybe Roy had startled Tim making him attack on instinct. Jason’s theory was proved right when Tim came running into the bathroom, Roy following behind as he rubbed at his head.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” Tim asked staring at Jason horrified.

“Ah,” He settled back to the floor and examined the wound that had reopened. Blood pooled between stitches onto the tile floor below him and Jason quickly began gathering supplies to stitch it shut again. Jason looked to Roy for an excuse but the red head was busy pretending to be more interested in helping Jason reclose the wound. Actually Roy probably wasn’t pretending. “Case gone bad. Guess it’s not our week, huh?”

Roy lowered back to the ground and threaded the needle Jason handed to him. A broken hand made it difficult to do something so simple. Tim sat beside the red head and waited uncomfortably as Jason began sewing through the skin. For the first time since Tim entered the bathroom Jason noticed the backpack he was carrying.

“What’s in the bag?” Jason asked desperate to keep Tim from asking any more questions yet thwart the awkward silence that had filled the room.

 “The clothes you let me borrow this morning. Thanks By the way.”

Roy raised an eyebrow in silent curiosity at Jason. He glared at the red head as if trying to telepathically say _‘not like that’_. “No problem,” he muttered.

“There’s no way you just have clothes in there.” Roy said looking over his shoulder to Tim then back to Jason. “He hit me in the head with that thing when I went into the kitchen. I thought there was a brick or something in there.”

Tim scoffed. “Not quite. Alfred gave me a box of cookies to take Jay,” he paused then realized how hard he had swung his bag at Roy. “Sorry.” he added.

“Why’d you hit Roy with your bag?” Jason asked realizing what the noise earlier in the kitchen had been.

“I came into the kitchen and found a pile of bloody clothes in the sink, not to mention the blood on the floor. I didn’t know what to think; then out pops Roy from nowhere and scares the shit out of me. Better to fight first and ask questions later.” Tim explained.

Jason nodded and Roy scowled at Jason who was not defensive to him. “You two are so paranoid.”

“We were trained by Batman; Paranoia is part of the job description.” Jason said flatly.

* * *

 

Apparently their little job was broadcasting across multiple news stations in Gotham. Kory called Roy's phone and Jason could hear the screaming from where he sat across the room. When Roy had asked if Kory could come over, Jason immediately insisted she did not. It was bad enough having Roy here, let alone Kory too. So, Roy left saying he’d call to check up later and disappeared. Tim had departed from the bathroom a little while later and Jason could hear the noise of the television in the living room.

 _“Twenty-four men were killed at Gotham harbor this afternoon,”_ a female newscaster announced. “ _The victims are believed to have been involved in human trafficking, yet only one name has been released to the public.”_

Jason listened uninterested as a photograph of the man he had beaten to death appeared on screen. The news reported spoke over it giving his name and synopsis of his past criminal record. “ _One of Gotham's richest CEOs' was found murdered today in the warehouse. The cause of death has not been stated but Gotham PD has released a statement stating his police record was filled with multiple accounts of assault.”_

The door to the bathroom creaked open, Tim standing in the opening. “Where were you and Roy this afternoon?”

“I thought you were supposed the next great detective,” Jason noted, not looking away from his stitching. The television hissed as it was turned off. Tim set the remote on the edge of the bathtub before sitting across from Jason, trying to make eye contact, but Jason kept his head down stubbornly.

“You realize that's the same guy who sent his men after me last night?” Tim probed.

Jason didn’t answer, just stared blankly at his blood-covered hand as he struggled with tying the knot. He didn’t want Tim to know he had killed someone so viciously, even if the guy was filth.

“Why?” Tim already guessed the answer, yet he had to be sure that was the reason Jason had done it.

At first Tim thought he would be ignored, but Jason looked up at him answering firmly, “I needed to,”

Jason’s hands were shaking as he struggled to tie the end of the thread. Tim leaned forward and took the needle from Jason’s hands and tied the last stitch closed with quick precision. He looked up again and could see Jason lack of emotion. Jason hadn’t felt any pain as he had stitched his own leg closed from a bullet wound, and he felt no regret for killing a guilty man. His heart sinking at the realization, Tim knew Jason no longer retained any of the morals that all the robins were taught.

“I-“ Tim paused deciding if he really wanted to complete his sentence. “I want to sleep at Dick’s tonight.”


	4. Day Three (part II)

The rest of the evening Jason spent sitting alone in his bathroom. He thought about texting Dick, warning him Tim was going to stay there that night, but thought better of it. For all he knew Tim could have lied again.

His leg wasn’t bleeding any more, but it hurt like a mother fucker. Before Tim had left, he gave Jason a bunch of pain meds, but they were taking forever to kick in. He sat against the wall, leg stretched out. Walking was going to be difficult even with the medicine. He would have to sit and wait until then.

There was a ringing noise and Jason shifted to retrieve his phone from his pocket. A text lit the screen:

_Dick Grayson_

_Tim just called saying he was coming over. What happened?_

Jason considered calling him, but decided against it. He felt like shit, and didn’t want to listen to Dick’s lectures or pity. Instead he opened the camera on his phone and too a photo of his bandaged leg.

Sending it to Dick, he followed with a text saying: _Bad day at the office._

The minute the sent symbol changed to opened, his phone buzzed and Dicks profile picture jumped onto the screen. Jason hit ignore but a few seconds later the phone rang again; Dicks cheeky picture returning. Jason hit ignore again but the photo and ring returned within seconds. Dick was as stubborn as he was annoying.

Shutting the phone off Jason leaned back against the wall. Dick only had one of his numbers, so at least he would have peace- 

Ringing.

“God dammit Dick!” Jason yelled hoping it was loud enough the oldest robin could hear from the opposite side of Gotham.

Jason refused to acknowledge it, instead debating how to best kill Grayson when he saw him again. The first set of ringing ended only to start again; and again and again. It was driving Jason mad. Forcing himself up he balanced against the wall and limped carefully across the bathroom into his ridiculously small kitchen.

In the sink his jeans and shirt still sat bathing hydrogen peroxide in the sink. The liquid was no longer clear but instead a cherry red from the blood that had removed. Thinking bitterly to that morning he recalled his breakfast with Tim. There had been dishes from their ice cream where his bloody clothes now soaked. It had been weirdly domestic, and had Jason liked it much better. 

Pulling open the drawer beside the sink Jason searched through the spare cell phones looking for the one ringing. As he looked at each screen he discovered each showed a miss call from Grayson. Another lit again and began to buzz urgently. Jason snatched it from the pile and brought it to his ear.

“What?!” he yelled irritated.

“What the hell happened and why aren’t you answering your phones?” Grayson demanded.

“Since when have you given a shit about my life?” Jason’s first clenched the edge of the counter.

“We’re brothers Jay, and seeing as you can’t seem to take care of yourself-“

Jason closed the phone and threw it against the nearest wall. It shattered and plastic bits rocketed off the wall. The drawer buzzed and phones rattled against each other in the vibration of another call. Grabbing a random cell from the drawer he aimed for the same place. It hit the wall harder and plastic chunks flew across the room.

The ringing continued. Frustrated Jason grabbed another phone. One at a time he hurled phones against the wall with all his strength. When there were no more phones he threw the wooden drawer to the floor where it cracked and splintered, spilling it’s other contents like keys and credit cards.

He hated this apartment, this life of loneliness and restraint. He hated Dick for caring and he hated Tim for not.

Limping to the sink Jason plunged his hand into the blood and chemical cocktail and pulled the sinks drain plug. It burned the deep cuts and bruises of his hand. The sink bubbled and began to drain but it was still to slow. Submerging his hands again he began scooping the liquid out by hand. It splashed onto the floor and he winced as it spilled onto his stitched bullet wound of his thighs.

When the sink was half-empty, bloody clothes still floating as a dark heap in the center, Jason slammed his hand against the switches behind the sink. The water gurgled and a growl from its depths roared and filled Jason’s ears. He watched in satisfaction as the water and fabric began to form a small whirlpool. The clothes were suddenly pulled below the water and the growling stopped and instead was replaced with a pathetic cry. 

Jason sighed, relieved to no longer be filled with the same anger and frustration as before. Kicking aside the wooden drawer he limped through the devastation he had created. The short time Tim had stayed with him had made him feel as though he could never be angry again, but Tim had left, and Jason had returned to old habits.

He passed the open door of the bathroom and glanced inside. The floor was stained with blood and multiple boxes of first aid kits spilling contents across the counter, bathtub lip and floor. Lying next to his earlier spot on the floor was the only remaining cell phone he had left. The surge of adrenaline and stupidity had worn off. Moments ago he would have thrown it into the sink, but now pocketed it instead before staggering into his room. 

The drone of the garbage disposal could still be heard as Jason collapsed onto his bed. It didn’t bother him though. If anything he preferred the noise. It drowned the persistent thoughts of his family, Tim especially.

The pain medication was finally working. Burying his face into his pillow, Jason allowed the drowsiness to take control of his body. It was easy to sleep while drugged. There was no dreams, just welcomed blackness.

…………………………..

Someone was urging Jason awake. He could feel their hands gently feeling his forehead. They were cool and Jason wanted to swat them away. It was comforting though and when they did finally move he wanted them to return.

Struggling to open his eyes he felt dizzy at the amount of light in the room. Where the hell was all that light even coming from? A cool breeze went across his back and he shivered at the feeling. That explained it; some asshole had opened his bedroom windows.

Whoever it was now sat beside him on the bed. Jason’s eyesight was crap at the moment with only blurs of color. Dark hair was the first thing he noticed, hanging in the persons face. As the blurred image began to clear, Jason’s heart jumped.

“…Tim?” he asked groggily.

The person shook their head. “No, sorry.”

 _Oh come on,_ Jason thought angrily. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment Dick,” Jason had tried so hard to sound pissed, but he was too exhausted.

“I came to make sure you weren’t dead.” Dick answered jokingly, but Jason could tell that Dick was hiding how serious he took the situation.

“Can’t you let me die in peace, just once, please.” Jason buried his face back into his pillow.

“Nah,” Grayson answered.

Jason groaned and pushed at Dick, trying to shove him off the bed. Between Grayson’s weight and Jason’s drugged limps, it was futile. Giving up Jason flopped his arm across Nightwing’s lap. Dick gave little interest to the limb.

“I wish I would die.” Jason finally said, interrupting the silence.

“I can see that.” It sounded so serious, which wasn’t usually Grayson’s attitude.

Struggling to look up Jason glared at him. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Have you seen your kitchen?” Dick asked harshly. Memories of Jason’s outburst earlier flashed through his head. “Do you ever clean the damn thing? You’ll probably die of food poisoning before you’re my age!”

Dick smiled as Jason scoffed. “I’ve been in your place Grayson, don’t you dare lecture me about hygiene.”

“My place is spotless,” Dick countered. Last time Jason had seen it though it looked like a tornado had gone through. Papers were littered everywhere, police files mixed with laundry and stacks of dishes in the sink. If Jason hadn’t known better he’d call Dick a hoarder. Tim would not approve.

“Can you at least close the window for the love of all that is holy?” Jason asked as another breeze sent him into shivers.

Dick quickly stood and Jason’s arm flopped onto the bed, reclaiming it. The light in the room dimmed and the air stilled. Burrowing deeper into the old mattress Jason felt aimlessly for a blanket.

“Here,” Dick said and laid it over him.

“Thanks.”

Grayson sat on the edge of the bed and Jason debated asking the question that bugged him most. 

“Tim get to your place okay?”

“Never showed up,” Dicks voice sounded disappointed.

Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Looking at the screen below the covers he read:

_12 missed messages from Dick Grayson_

_1 text from Tim Drake_

Eagerly he taped the message; _spending the night in Metropolis, tell Dick._

Jason hummed to himself and Dick looked back at him. “What?”

“Here,” Jason held the phone out to Dick who looked sadly at the screen.

“At least I know where he is then.” Dick returned the phone.

  _Always the optimist,_ Jay thought. “What the hell’s he doing in Metropolis? Having a slumber party with Superman?”

“Something like that,” Dick answered with a smirk.

Jason remembers vaguely of some new teen justice _(young titans? Who gives a fuck_ ) who was pretty much superman except a tween. Jason placed all his bets that was who Tim went to see. 

Half drugged, Jason’s mind began to wander over memories of the past few days. He had wanted to see more of Tim; spend almost the entire two weeks with him. Yet here Jason laid, Grayson sitting at the edge of his bed humming to himself. Jason’s thoughts gradually shifted from his younger brother to his older.

Dick was a nice guy; a little overbearing, handsy, and too damn cheerful, but it was all collected into a calm and content personality. That’s what Jason decided bothered him the most. The fact that no matter the situation, Dick could remain cool and collected. Very rarely had Dick been pushed to the edge. When he did it was terrifying, but a few weeks later he’d return to his old self.

Jason realized his own personality was the exact opposite. He was wrathful, disobedient, and impulsive. Those were the reasons Jason had made a poor robin, and the same reasons he had died. After returning from the dead they grew stronger, until they were the only thing Jason was certain about himself. Outbursts like the two today were becoming less common, but they still were part of a routine.

Why Tim had suddenly stopped talking to Dick puzzled him. Sure the guy was aggravating, but he certainty didn’t beat people to death when they pissed him off; or go into a war mode destroying his kitchen when annoyed. It didn’t add up.

“Hey, Grayson?” Jason said, trying to look over his pillow.

Dick turned concerned. “Yeah Jay? Do you need something?”

Jason shook his head before asking, “How come you and Tim aren’t talking?”

Even though Jason couldn’t see much of Dick, he could feel the atmosphere change. Dick fiddled with his hands momentarily then sighed. “Tim wouldn’t want me to talk about it.”

 “Oh come on,” Jason nudged Grayson with his foot. “I’ll make you a deal if you do.”

Dick raised an eyebrow skeptically. “What kind of deal?”

“Hmm,” Jason thought for a moment. His mind was groggy again and sleep was starting to feel welcome. “I’ll let you ask me any question you want.”

“No,” Dick said chuckling.

“Why not?”

“Maybe some other time when you aren’t drugged and vulnerable.” Dick explained smirking.

 “Vulnerable? Dude I could still,” Jason paused to yawn, “Kick your ass.”

“You can’t kick my ass when you’re sober.” Dick muttered as he pulled the blanket back over Jason’s shoulders.

He stood and walked to the door, but before leaving turned and said: “Get some rest and when you wake up, call me. I’ll bring you some food.”

Jason hummed in acknowledgment and felt his lids growing heavy. Alright, so maybe Dick wasn’t such a prude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you realize I have no idea where the fuck this story is going; it's an adventure for us both!


	5. Day Five

How long had he slept? Jason rolled onto his back and groaned at the pain that spread through his body, his leg especially.

With the curtains shut he couldn’t tell if it were night or day, but outside he could hear rain pouring onto the fire escape. It pounded against the metal, giving Jason an awful headache. There was a flash of light that filled his room. He counted the seconds in his head before the loud rumble followed.

Twelve seconds, he noted mentally. Groggily he sat up and wrapped the blanket over his shoulders like a cape, something he always did when sick.

The first thing he remembered was his outburst in the kitchen. He’d have to clean now, something he hated. Then there was the issue with the garbage disposal stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey with his jeans, shirt, and leather jacket. He couldn’t hear the gears whining anymore; but that could either mean Grayson turned it off or the poor thing burnt out. Hopefully the later so he had something to fix while injured.

Jason poked at his thigh unsure. It felt numb, actually his whole body did; but his leg especially felt numb except when he touched the wound. The bandages around it were red. Some had seeped onto the sheets beneath him, leaving his skin and clothes crusted together. _Gross_.

Cautiously, Jason peeled from bed. The blanket still wrapped tight around his shoulders; he was watchful to ensure he didn’t trip over it. Using the wall as his crutch he limped out of the bedroom, leaving his destroyed sheets for another time.

Across his floor, phone shrapnel littered the carpet. Jason tip toed over them as he made his way into the kitchen. Most of the hydrogen peroxide had evaporated off the floor, luckily, but they still left red stains on the tile. Jason glanced hopefully into the sink. Disappointingly the clothes still floated in a chemical bath, anchored down with the garbage disposal. He sighed then limped past the carnage to his refrigerator.

Usually his fridge was half empty. A jar of pickles had always occupied the shelf, a carton of milk and maybe a ketchup bottle. That was about it. Today however, when he opened the doors, he was greeted with several containers that were not his.

Jason stared blankly at them, unsure what to do. After a brief staring contest, he noticed a folded paper in front of them. He opened it and read the sloppy note left:

_Jason, got you some soup. I’m getting you stuff at the store now so if you think of anything particular text me, K? ~Dick_

As tempting as it was to dump the soup and change his locks, it would be a horrible waste of food. Not to mention getting Dick to buy him more ice cream seeing as Tim had eaten it all wasn’t a bad idea.

Grabbing a container and the jar of pickles, Jason limped to the couch. The soup was cold but it didn’t matter. It was just as good cold as it was warm. Also Jason just didn’t give a fuck and his microwave was two limps too far.

He patted his pocket groggily for his phone. It hurt to even touch his leg but persevering he struggled to peel the phone from his pocket. For once he had no missed calls, just texts.

_Dick Grayson: hey I lft soup in ur fridge CALL ME!_

_Roy Harper: How’s the leg? Kory and I are coming over 2day_

Jason wished he had destroyed all his phones now. Maybe changing the locks wasn’t a bad idea; then nobody would bother him. The downside to that though was Grayson wouldn’t bring him more food. Not to mention vigilantes were stubborn as fuck, therefore they’d find a way to sneak back in.

Reminded of Grayson’s plan of shopping for Jason (honestly there’s this thing called delivery, it’s not like he was going to starve if his fridge was empty) and decided he better text back everyone so they didn’t all panic and think he had died, again.

_Dick Grayson: hey I lft soup in ur fridge CALL ME!_   
_Jason Todd: bring me ben &jerry’s rocky road_

He scrolled to the next text

_Roy Harper: How’s the leg? Kory and I are coming over 2day_   
_Jason Todd: Please don’t. Grayson’s gonna be here and he may not get why Kory doesn’t know who he is_

To be honest, Jason did not want his apartment to be the place where Dick and Kory see each other again, and Dick being so cheerful might feel offended when Kory gives him the third degree. This wasn’t about Dick’s feelings; it was about keeping him happy so that way he’d bring Jason more food.

_Dick Grayson: kk :D_

Jason rolled his eyes, leaned back into his couch and sipped at the soup right from the bowl. Oh god it was so good. Jason didn’t realize how hungry he was until he stopped drinking to breath. He didn’t stop again until the container was empty, and he sat staring longingly at the empty bowl. He wanted more soup, but getting up again was going to be difficult. Instead he opted for the pickles he had also brought over. Turning on his TV he watched the news as he chewed on the sour sliced amazingness.

_"Hello, and welcome to Gotham News at five."_  The news man said straitening his papers. Jason looked at the time on his phone, horrified that he had slept over twenty-four hours. Had he died? That was the only explanation he could think of for having slept so long.

_"We warn you, the footage about to be played is graphic_."

Well that got Jason’s attention again. He looked up as a maniac in a mask pounded the shit out of a man on security footage. There was a gunshot, and the man doing the beating suddenly fell over, grasping at his leg.

“Fuck!” Jason yelled, instinctively trying to jump to his feet, only to hiss and fall back onto the couch. A string of curses followed as he tried to ignore the pain running through his leg to look back at the TV. The news reporter was back, a blurry close up of Jason and Roy’s faces were shown.

Jason’s phone began ringing and he answered it, not looking away from the screen.

_“Jason, you need to turn on channel –“_

“I see it Roy.” Jason said, reading the bottom of the TV as it gave information on who to contact if they’re recognized.

_“I really don’t think you should be staying at that apartment. If someone recognizes you, then you’re screwed.”_ Roy’s voice sounded panicked. _“I can come pick you up and we’ll just head to the island and lay low a few months.”_

Jason’s mind suddenly flashed with images of Tim. He couldn’t just leave, not without telling him, or asking him to come with them. Jason stammered, trying to think of a valid excuse for why he couldn’t leave yet. “We probably shouldn’t be seen together.”

He could practically hear the gears in Roy’s head turning. _“You’re right, people are more likely to recognize us. Give me an hour and I’ll call you back.”_

Before Jason could respond Roy had hung up. He set the jar of pickles down and limped to his bedroom, dialing Tim’s number as he did.

_“Hello,”_

“Tim, listen to me you-“

“ _You have reached Tim Drake’s phone, leave a message”_

  
“Dammit!” Jason pressed redial and began gathering items around his room and tossing them into a duffle bag. He had been meaning to make a ‘things-have-gone-to-shit’ bag that was pre-packed for situations EXACTLY like this, but alas, Jason had gotten too domestic in his stay at Gotham.

Tim’s phone went to voice mail again. Deciding he’d have to make that his second priority, he threw the last of his clothes and guns into the bag and zipped it closed. Jason felt so proud of how quick he had done that, but noticed his reflection in the mirror. He was shirtless, pants-less, his wound had reopened and blood was running down his leg, and his hair was matted and unkempt, the white streak making him look like a crazed homeless man.

Taking a deep breath, Jason grabbed a fresh pair of Jeans and the first T-shirt he could find. He’d have to take a shower before he left and bandage his wounds. Stripping off his boxers, Jason turned the shower on and as he waited for the water to heat, he unwrapped the crusted red mess on his leg. There was no time to stich it shut again; instead he dug through his cabinet, removing a feminine hygiene pad and a roll of duct tape.

His shower clocked in at only three minutes and fifty-two seconds. Just enough time to shave and clean, none of that ‘relaxing’ bullshit. Jason ran a towel over his hair then sat at the edge of the tub, unwrapping the maxi pad and pressing the cotton side firmly to his wound. Next he pulled off a strip of duct tape and wrapped it around the pad and his thigh twice, securing it as best he could. Topping it off he took a handful of tylonol. He could O.D., or it could keep the pain down enough to get the fuck out of Gotham.

Jason didn’t take a moment to appreciate his amazing first aid skills before jumping back into action. He pulled up a clean pair of underwear and jeans, which felt absolutely amazing to be all new and shiny for the first time in days. He pulled the Tshirt on, realizing as he stared into the mirror that it was the same Bon Jovi shirt Tim had worn only two mornings ago.

There was a pause as a flood of emotions rushed through Jason’s brain. He’d have to leave Gotham for months and then Tim would never talk to him again, but if he stayed he’d get caught and then Tim still wouldn’t talk to him. Jason always had loose-loose situations, and they always seemed to get worse than the last. He sighed and gathered what little he needed in the bathroom for his trip. Outside the thunderstorm sounded like it was getting worse. The rain and thunder was so persistent, he didn’t hear the cop entering his apartment.

To be fair, Dick had purposely snuck in, unsure if Jason was asleep. He looked around the room; noticing the TV was on and a jar of pickles sat open on the coffee table. Dick hummed to himself as he set the grocery bags on Jason’s kitchen table. He had just gotten off his shift at the Gotham PD, and he was still in his uniform. He scratched the back of his head as he began unpacking the bags.

Jason looked at the text from Roy as he grabbed his duffle bag, helmet under his arm.

_Roy Harper: Meet Kory at Gotham Mall in 1 hour. If you’re not there we’re leaving w/o you_.

Jason was about to respond when he heard something in his kitchen. He reached for his gun and limped slowly to his door. Cautiously he opened it, watching as a cop searched through his apartment.

Shit. Jason thought, putting his helmet on. He shouldered his bag and removed his gun, holding in out as he nudged the door open. The cop still had his back turned to Jason; busy looking through the mess of clothes in the sink and shattered phones on the floor. Jason cleared his throat, expecting the cop to spin around with a look of horror as he came face to face with the Red Hood.

Instead, the cop didn’t even look as he said: “Your Ice Cream's in that last shopping bag if you want it.”

“Jesus Christ Dick,” Jason said lowering his gun immediately. “I thought you were a cop!”

That made Grayson turn around, grinning idiotically. “I am a cop.” Dick’s smile faltered staring at the gun Jason was holstering. “Were you going to shoot me?”

“No,” Jason said disgusted. “I was gonna’ scare the cop who broke in here, maybe tie him up to give me some extra time.”

“Time for what?” Dick said, sizing up Jason’s half-assed appearance and duffle bag.

“Dude, you work for the police department and yet you still never know what the fuck is going on.” Jason shook his head and pointed to the TV, Roy’s mug shot sat beside a blurry security footage photo of Jason, the photos moved to the side of the screen, a news reporter spoke:

“The two suspects have been identified as Roy Harper, and an unknown accomplice. The second man is described as being a Caucasian male, with dark hair and a streak of white, and a serious injury to his leg. Please contact the Gotham PD if you recognize these men, but do not approach. It is believed these men are armed and dangerous.”

Dicks eyes widened and he listened intently to the reporter. “This is bad,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” Jason said limping to his kitchen and riffling through the grocery bag.

“Then you’re leaving Gotham?”

“Yeah.” Jason pulled out the carton of ice cream from the bag and spoon from the drawer. “Meeting my ‘accomplice’ at Gotham mall in an hour.”

Dick frowned. “I should arrest you.”

Jason’s hand hovered over his gun as he pretended to casually eat his ice cream. “You do realize that guy I killed was the fucktard who nearly killed Tim, right?”

Dick sighed, hands running through his hair. “Jesus Christ Jason, things were going good here.”

That made Jason’s face feel hot and his heart pound. Before he could stop himself he had pulled his gun out again and had it aimed at Dick’s head. He was going to fight, kick, and scream his way out of this mess, denying his blame like he always did. Was.

Dick didn’t jump into defensive mode. Instead he starred past the gun and directly at the Red Hood. “You’re not gonna shoot me.”

“You wanna bet?” Jason asked, but he wanted to drop the gun, to throw it as far away from himself as possible. He was disgusted with how easily he had drawn on Dick.

“It’s not a dare.” Dick raised his hands however, his eyes never leaving Jason’s mask, never looking for a way out or a weapon; just staring Jason down.

That was it. That was what he needed. “Fuck,” Jason immediately set the gun down on the table, backing away from it as if it were pointed at him. “I-I’m sorry,” he stumbled through the words.

“Take off the helmet.” Dick demanded. Jason reluctantly took it off and felt like he could suddenly breath, but he was breathing too much. Holy shit, was he having a panic attack?

Jason clutched at the table, struggling to stay upright. Dick was on his other side in an instant, keeping him from falling over. “Breath,” Grayson repeated. “Just breath.”

This was fucked up. This whole week had been so fucked up and his emotions tossed left and right. He needed to get arrested, he needed to be shot. He had pointed a gun at Dick. The nicest person he had ever met and he was one second from blowing him away. A monster. That’s all Jason could think of as his breaths kept catching in his throat.

Knocking, why was there knocking? He looked up at Grayson, his brother’s face watching the apartment door.

“Jason, you need to listen to me carefully. Hide. You need to hide.”

Not sure what Dick meant, but understanding it was and order, Jason took off to his bedroom, looking desperately for somewhere, anywhere, he could ‘hide’. There was only one place he could think of, but he’d have to get over his fit and fast.

Grayson opened the door of Jason’s apartment, cheeky smile spread across his face. “Commissioner Gordon? Well this is a bit of a surprise.”

James’s face scrunched up, looking Dick up and down. “Officer Grayson?”

Dick nodded as he looked over the other three officers standing behind Gordon. “Can I help you boys?”

The commissioner looked lost, his mustache twitching as he tried to look past Dick into the apartment. “Is this you place? I thought you lived West of the station?”

“Ah,” Grayson laughed and leaned against the door frame. “This was my old apartment after I moved out of Wayne Manor. Bruce had been renting it out for the last few years, but the renters moved out a few months ago. My apartment’s getting painted so I’m staying here until then.” He finished his story with a dashing smile that most people would mistake for innocent. James Gordon, however, was not most people.

“Hmm,” Gordon opened the folder in his hand, reading a report Grayson couldn’t see. “We received multiple calls from this complex saying they recognized a wanted vigilante living at this address, and I have to say the similarities are quite striking.”

“Vigilante? Well that’s exciting. People usually do say my looks could kill.” Grayson laughed to himself but none of the other cops seemed to find it funny. Dick cleared his throat then became very serious.

“Do you want me to come back to the station? I don’t have any plans this evening so if we can clear this up tonight, that’d be great.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Gordon said. His eyes were skeptical though. “Where were you two days ago, around 10 A.M.?”

Grayson hummed and scratched his head. “Well,” he thought. “I think I was out with Babs, we went to brunch and then I dropped her off at her apartment before picking up my brother Tim from a friends place in Metropolis.”

The commissioner nodded along, looking doubtful. “You wouldn’t mind if I called Barbra, just to confirm your story?”

“Of course not.” Dick smiled. Check mate.

The phone rang on speaker, _“Hi Dad, what’s up?”_ Barbara answered.

“Hey, Babs. I’m here with your friend Richard Grayson. I was wondering, when did you see him last?”

_“Umm,”_ Barbara thought about it for a few seconds. “ _Only a few days ago, why?_ ”

“And what time of day did you meet him? What did you two do?”

_“We went for brunch. Is something wrong? Dick’s not in trouble is he?”_

“Hey Babs!” Dick chirped in, “I’m fine, but your dad thinks I’m a vigilante.”

There was laughter over the phone. _“Oh my god, are you serious?! Dad, come on. Is that the wanted guy on the news with the black hair and blue eyes? Dick isn’t that tall is he?”_

Grayson’s smirk dropped and he glared at the phone. “Hey, I could be that guy. Was he described as having killer looks?”

_“No,”_ Barbra said. Dick could practically hear the eye-roll. “ _Dad, the news said the guy got shot in the leg. Dick’s not shot is he?_ ”

Gordon glanced at Dick’s leg. “No, I suppose not.”

_“Look, Daddy, I’m sure a lot of people saw Dick and just assumed it was him. After all, the photo wasn’t very good.”_

Gordon set his jaw tight. “Alright, thank you sweetie.”

“Bye Babs.” Dick said before the commissioner could hang up.

“I suppose that solves that then.” Dick said, ready to shut the door on the officers. Gordon however wedged his foot in the door.

“You wouldn’t mind if we had a look around though, would you?”

“Ah,” Dick forced his smile back on. This was getting old. “Course. Afraid my apartment’s kind of a mess right now though.”

“That’s fine,” James said, pushing open the door with all his force. Grayson moved out of the way and looked wordily over the kitchen and floor.

The four cops filed into the room, each immediately opening closet doors, looking in rooms, and looking suspiciously over to Grayson.

“Have some sort of fight?” Gordon asked, kicking aside pieces of phone plastic.

“Uh, had some issues with the garbage disposal. Tore apart the house trying to find a wrench.” Dick laughed nervously, but his joke didn’t seem to land with anyone else in the room.

The commissioner hummed, looking in the sink with a raised eyebrow. “Care to explain the clothes stuffed down the drain and the blood on the floor?”

“Well…” _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_.

“My washing machine wasn’t working, so I tried to wash some of my clothes in the sink, accidently hit the garbage disposal switch. The, uh, blood was from my brother.”

“Brother? The same one you picked up after brunch with Barbara?” Gordon asked.

“No, that was Tim. I had been watching Damian, my youngest brother, yesterday and I thought he could help me fix the drain, but then cut his hand.”

“Seems like it was a pretty serious cut? He alright?”

“Yeah, no.” Grayson scoffed. “He’s fine. Luckily Alfred taught first aid so we didn’t have to take him to the emergency room.”

“Was Mr. Pennyworth here too?”

Shit.

“No, I mean he taught me first aid. Sorry, should have worded that better.”

Dick was growing nervous now. This story was spiraling out of control. He would have said Tim instead of Damian, but with Tim’s attitude towards him lately, he wasn’t sure if that was the best choice. Besides, Damian would be willing to dawn a fake cut and bandage for a few days. He was a kid. Gross stuff like that was cool to him.

“Do you think you and Damian could come down to the station tomorrow morning? I have a few questions for you both. If you can I’d also like to talk to the one from Metropolis too.”

“Tim?” Dick grinned. “Yeah, no problem!” _Big problem_.

“Good.” Gordon gave one last look around the room. “See you tomorrow officer.”

The other four policemen wandered from the house, each giving one last glance around the place before Grayson slammed the door behind them. His head rested on the door, trying to process how he had so easily lied to his boss, and how he had dragged not one, but two other brothers into this mess.

Dick wandered to the bathroom, he already knew where Jason was hiding, and thank god no one had gone into there. He pulled back the sower curtain and glared at Jason who was lying in the tub.

“You’re good at that.” Jason noted, trying to bring Dick’s spirits up.

“I swear to God Jason,” Dick muttered.

It wasn’t exactly the best time to bring it up, but he had only twelve minutes to meet Kory or else they were gonna leave without him. “You think you can give me a ride to Gotham Mall?”

“What?” Dick asked, eyebrows raised. “I just lied my ass off for you! I put my job and identity on the line for you! You seriously think I’m gonna let you waltz off to some tropical island?”

Jason scoffed, “You can’t keep me from leaving.”

“Yeah? Well then smart-ass how the fuck are you going to get from here to the mall? Last I checked you had lost almost two fucking pints of blood, you’re still fucking bleeding, and I guarantee Gordon is sitting with two other police cars downstairs staking out this complex.”

Jason was getting pissed. It wasn’t Dick’s place to tell him how to live his life. Until two years ago they all hated him. “So what? Roy’s got a plan that’s sure to get us out of the U.S., I’ll be out of your lives and you’ll never have to hear from me again.”

“That’s exactly it!” Grayson yelled. “I’m sure as hell somehow you’ll make it to the mall, then to the plane, then to some island in the middle of nowhere and I’ll never hear from you again! None of us want that Jason! I love having you back, so does Tim! Even freaking Damian tolerates you now! But you push us all away under some fucked up perception that we don’t want you!”

“If you guys want me here then why don’t you act like it?!” Jason screamed. If he weren’t still bleeding he’d deck Grayson in his pretty boy face.

Dick threw his hands up in the air. “What do you want us to do Jason? Spell it out for you? I-like-having-you-in-Gotham! Why the fuck would Tim come over almost everyday after school to play video games? Why would he ask to spend two mother-fucking weeks at your house? Why would I go out of my way to lie to James Gordon’s face to keep you safe after you murdered someone?”

Jason was silent, glaring at the tile wall, trying to burn a hole trough it. “I don’t want to put you guys in that position.” He growled.

Grayson hands were rubbing at his eyes, Jason didn’t dare to look up and see why. “You can go, but I’m not helping you leave. I l-,” he stopped. “We’re family. Whether you push us away or not.”

With that, Dick stormed out of the bathroom, but he didn’t leave the apartment. Jason could hear him in the bedroom. Voice shaky as he called Alfred, saying he needed to borrow Damian in the morning.

Jason sat in the tub, knees pulled to his chest, waiting for Roy to text him. Kory and him were his family, but apparently Dick was too now. He knew it was impractical to try and leave for the mall. Like Dick had said: Leg. Cops. Time. Jason was good, but he wasn’t Superman.

Finally, his phone buzzed and Jason struggled to type his reply.

_Kory: Where are you, you’re late?_

_Jason Todd: I’m not gonna make it. You two go. Keep Roy safe._

It wasn’t until he hit send he realized his hands were shaking and his cheeks were wet. He quickly wiped it away and sunk deeper into the tub. _This week was so fucked up._

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I noticed the grammar mistakes. I'll fix it someday, but until then enjoy.


End file.
